


A Second Chance

by iruhe



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, GerPru Secret Santa 2017, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 01:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iruhe/pseuds/iruhe
Summary: It is the Golden Twenties in Berlin. One fateful day, Gilbert approaches his brother, who he has not seen in the past decade, for help in apprehending his lover's murderer. However, emotional baggage exists between the brothers. Ludwig has unresolved feelings for Gilbert, who remains conflicted about his relationship with his brother. Will they reconcile as the murderer draws ever nearer, or will it all fall apart?Inspired by Babylon Berlin.





	A Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> GerPru Secret Santa 2017 gift for DawnofDragonfire, who requested something historical and with the boys as biological brothers.

Gilbert tried to look as innocuous as someone loitering outside the police headquarters at Alexanderplatz could be. He'd been camped out here for two hours now, and the officers stationed at the doors, smartly dressed in their blue uniforms, shakos and handlebar moustaches, were starting to eyeball him with no small degree of suspicion. He plucked his homburg off his head and fiddled restlessly with its felt brim, leaning against a corner of the mammoth, castle-like red brick building, as far away from the officers as he could manage while still keeping the entrance in sight, and wondered if the person he longed to see was in there at all, or worse, if he knew he was here and was deliberately avoiding him ... but at last, to his relief, his patience paid off. Gilbert spotted the one he'd been waiting for coming through the tall archway and perked up immediately, stubbing out his cigarette against the brick wall and slipping it into his coat pocket for later. With his heart pounding in his chest, Gilbert licked his suddenly dry lips and slowly approached the tall, broad-shouldered figure -- taller than him now -- that had just emerged in the dwindling daylight, dressed smartly in a charcoal grey three piece suit and a camel overcoat. On his head sat a homburg not unlike his own.

As Gilbert trailed silently after the man, past a decorated war veteran with an amputated left leg begging on the streets and youth holding up _Suche Arbeit_ placards, he thought, maybe he shouldn't do this after all. He shouldn't muscle his way back into Ludwig's life, not after the distance he'd gone through such great lengths to build in the last ten years, living only with the bare-bones knowledge that his brother had survived the war. It was so much easier when they were physically apart, and Berlin had provided a heady cocktail of everything from avant-garde art and entertainment to bloody politics, sexual liberty and drugs, but why did _he_ have to end up here too, all grown up and heartbreakingly handsome? Why did their paths have to have to cross again? Did God hate him that much? Was he not doing his best? Why did his wounds have to be picked over and over? Why did he have to be tempted with something he could not have?

But he had never been able to resist the pull of the man before him. Not when Ludwig had first kissed him, warm, wet and sloppy in a verdant field speckled with blue cornflowers so many summers ago, and certainly not now. All it took was one hazy glance from afar for his brother to dominate his heart and mind all over again.

"Ludwig," he forced past the tightness in his throat, hating the tremble in his voice and the way his fingers tightened around his hat like it was a security crutch, terrified of rejection but resigned to the fact that it would've been his own doing.

The man stopped, as though he'd known Gilbert was there all along, and turned around slowly. His face was neutral but those blue eyes Gilbert loved so much were blazing, staring straight at him with such intensity Gilbert felt it lance through his flimsy defences. He was angry, and Gilbert couldn't blame him. Secretly, he was relieved. Anger meant he still felt something, which was a start. Nothing was more tragic than indifference.

Neither of them spoke for a long while, each waiting, anticipating, taking in the changes of the other in the decade they’d been apart.

Ludwig was a man now. A man who had loved and lost, been through the horrors of trench warfare on the Western Front and come home to economic devastation. It had been blow after blow, and he wore his life experience around him like battle-hardened armour.

"When did you come to Berlin?" Gilbert asked quietly.

"Two months ago."

"... How have you been?"

"Alive."

Okay, alive was good.

"You look ... well."

"..."

Gilbert fidgeted, wishing he could take a long drag of his cigarette now. "I uh ... I heard you were investigating the recent serial murders."

Frost crept into Ludwig's eyes. He knew that had been the wrong thing to say, but it was safe. Get Ludwig talking about things that would not set off any landmines in their loaded relationship first.

"How did you know?"

Gilbert plastered a grin on his face. "I asked the barkeeper after you left the Eldorado that night."

At the mention of the nightclub, Gilbert saw the tension in Ludwig's muscular shoulders and set jaw. He knew his brother wanted answers about what he saw there, about ten years ago, but if Ludwig asked nothing, then he was going to continue to feign ignorance for as long as he could get away with.

"How did you know I was here?" Ludwig's tone was curt. Testy. But Gilbert knew better.

"The same barkeeper mentioned something about the 'pretty boy inspector' ..." And that Herr Kommissar could come inspect him any time he wanted, but his brother didn't need to know that.

"How resourceful you are," Ludwig mocked. "So you are capable of locating someone if you wanted to."

Landmine. No more joking then.

"I ... didn't know if you would be around or even here, but I wanted to try my luck," Gilbert faltered, fake grin slipping away to reveal the eddying unease beneath.

"You could have gone in and asked. It wasn't as though I was hiding from anyone."

Ouch.

"Didn't think that would've been a good idea."

"... No indeed."

Another long moment passed and Gilbert could not tear his eyes away from his brother, the reality of the moment and the painful realisation of how much had changed between them a knife twisting in his guts.

Warily, Ludwig was the one to break the silence this time.

"What do you want?"

"I have a lead for you."

Ludwig arched an eyebrow, waiting for Gilbert to elaborate. It was the same imperious expression he had in his youth, now transposed to an older face, and all the more authoritative. Appealing. Sexy. Gilbert cursed himself to hell and back. Ludwig was his fucking _brother_ , for God's sake!

"Well?"

"Uh," Gilbert floundered, feeling like a thousand butterflies the colour of Ludwig's eyes were fluttering in his head and chest, their phantom wings beating his brain into mush. "Oh. Yeah. I mean ... I knew Karl."

A shadow flitted across Ludwig's face and his stance stiffened even further. Great. It seemed as though every word that came out of his mouth was exactly the wrong one. The butterflies crumbled to dust, Gilbert cringed inwardly, beginning to question the wisdom of his decision in coming to Ludwig, and worse, coming to him in this manner. But it shouldn't matter. He wasn't looking for a reconciliation. In fact, it would be better for Ludwig to hate him. He wanted Ludwig to hate him. No, he didn't.

"And?!" Ludwig's voice broke through Gilbert's internal dithering. It was amazing, really, how one monosyllabic word could paint such a vivid image of someone who was trying very hard not to fold his arms across his chest and tap his foot impatiently. Under any other circumstances, Gilbert would've laughed at his brother.

Fuck it. He didn't know what he wanted anymore, but the one useful thing he _could_ do at the moment was help his brother on the case, and Gilbert grasped onto that one straw.

"The victims all have one thing in common -- they used to be Karl's regulars. I can't be certain if this is the crucial link, but I'm pretty confident."

Ludwig took in the new information with a frown. "These murders have been going on for the past two months, why have you come forward only now?"

"I hadn't made the connection before. They were from a long time ago and Karl was no longer a ... no longer in that business. Hadn't been for the past year. I noticed his recent skittishness, but he refused to say anything until last week. When he began receiving notes. That was when he confided that the victims of the recent murders used to be his regulars, and that he suspected a man named Ernst Sauer. I tried to make sure he was never left alone ever since but I had a meeting with my publisher last Tuesday and--"

"What is your relationship with the victim?"

Gilbert saw no point in denying it.

"I was his client turned ... friend."

"I see."

But Ludwig wasn't looking at him anymore.

"Why do you think it was this Ernst Sauer?"

"Karl mentioned he was an oddball travelling musician, a dreamer like the guy that wrote the notes. He had a thing for Karl, but the affection wasn't returned. That was about a year and a half ago. Then Sauer just vanished, and that should've been the end of it but then the murders started popping up one after another. I can only assume he's back for revenge or something. The victims match the time frame as well. They'd all been with Karl after Sauer came into the picture, not before."

"These notes. Where are they?" Ludwig was to the point. Impersonal. An inspector on the job, and Gilbert couldn't quite quell the sinking feeling in his stomach at how his brother had cordoned himself off emotionally and was treating him like mere 'business' now.

"They're at home. I can bring them to you tomorrow, or even later if you want."

"That won't be necessary. I'll come with you now."

"... Alright. We can take the U-Bahn."

 

It was a modest one-bedroom apartment on the second floor of an old tenement building, sparsely furnished, neatly kept and dominated by a large dining table which also served as a writing desk, piled high with _Krimi_ , boulevard papers, books on psychology, the latest publications on sexuality by the controversial Hirschfeld, what appeared to be police archive photographs of murder cases and at the centre of it all, several handwritten manuscripts.

"I write crime fiction and commentary for some of the local papers. Karl was also my assistant," Gilbert explained as he tried not to think about the awkward situation of bringing his old, complicated, someone special, home to investigate the murder of his new, now ex-lover. He hadn't counted on this turn of events when he'd rashly run off to Ludwig, and he would've regretted it, had seeing Ludwig and hearing his voice again not satiated a selfish part of him. "Here are the notes," Gilbert said, handing over a brown paper folder.

"You should have come to the police before," Ludwig said as he opened the folder.

"The police? Hah! He was a nobody. No, worse, he was a homosexual ex-prostitute. Who'd take him seriously? This so-called tolerance of our kind is just a blind eye the authorities turn. We're still a cancer to 'respectable' society, all the better if we were all dead!" Gilbert spat, but reined in his temper when he realised he was taking out his frustrations on Ludwig. "Sorry. Didn't mean to yell at you."

Ludwig dismissed it with a wave and arranged the contents of the folder in chronological order on what little free space was available on the dining table.

> _Your smile dazzles like the sun, your laughter is a balm for my weary soul, your tender caresses like the gentlest summer breeze, your purity like virgin snow. My heart was lost from the moment I laid eyes on you._

> _I dream of a quiet place far away, just you and me, where we can be free to live and love. We would be so happy. You said you loved my playing. I would be only too happy to do so for you all the time in our little world._

> _My darling, I wish I could protect you from the vipers of this world. These filth are not worthy of the ground you stand on, much less lay a finger on you._

> _He doesn't deserve you. He doesn't love you. He's been unfaithful to you. I've seen him with other men. Why do you stay with him? Come to me. I will be true to you. No-one will love you more than I._

> _I will wait for you at the Anhalter Bahnhof. Come at midnight tomorrow. We'll run away._

> _Why have you not come? Am I not good enough for you? Is he holding you hostage?_

> _You slut, I told you he was fooling around with other men! Why do you degrade yourself by staying with him? Why did you let him touch you?_

> _My angel, this world has smeared you with its filth, broken your wings and blinded your sight, but do not fear, I will cleanse all that defile you, and you will see that we were meant to be._

Ludwig's full attention was on the evidence at hand, and Gilbert couldn't help but stare at his brother again as he worked, intense and focused as ever in his endeavours. His thoughts began to drift, wondering about the events he'd missed in Ludwig's life, those that had shaped him into the man he is today, and if things would have turned out any differently had he stayed by his brother's side, but then again, Ludwig had grown up exactly the way Gilbert had always imagined he would.

"How were these notes delivered?"

He was brought crashing back to the present. "Ah, they were always slid under the door, sometimes in the dead of night, sometimes in the day when we were both out."

"The police will get round to questioning the tenants of this building."

"I've asked around. Nobody has seen anything."

"Nevertheless, we shall have to do the questioning again for the record. I will also have to take custody of these. They do not directly prove Ernst Sauer was involved with the previous murders, but they strongly indicate he was responsible for the murder of Karl Klein, and perhaps we can uncover more when we bring him in for interrogation. Do you know where he can be found?"

Gilbert propped a hip against the table and crossed his arms. "No, but if the notes are any indication, there is a big possibility he will come after me next. You can use me as bait and nab him once and for all," he shrugged.

Ludwig glanced sharply at his brother. "Out of the question."

"I'm a decorated war veteran. I've earned my Iron Cross. I can handle one madman--"

"We are all war veterans, he would most likely be one too--"

"It's the best way to lure him out of hiding."

"There are other investigative avenues to take. Apprehending the murderer is my job. Until Sauer is caught, you will be under the protection of the police."

That was the final straw. Gilbert bristled, angry at how his little brother thought he could order him around, even angrier how distant Ludwig was acting, even though he'd never admit _that_ out loud. Gilbert knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't help it. "I didn't come to you for protection like those corpulent, lily-livered politicians!"

And just like that, Pandora's box creaked on its hinges and blasted wide open.

"Then why did you come to me? Why now! Just because of the case?!" Ludwig lifted fierce, tempestuous eyes to his brother, his chest heaving from the outburst that could be contained no longer. Years of pent up, repressed emotion surged forth like a tidal wave, drowning them in its intensity.

Gilbert couldn't breathe. Wasn't this what he had secretly hoped for? Why did he feel like running away now? "I ..." he swallowed, deciding on a half-truth. "I wanted justice for Karl. Life hadn't been fair to him. He was a kind person. A good friend. My life these years would have been so much darker without him."

"Is that so."

Ludwig had balled his hands into white-knuckled fists, and Gilbert reached out instinctively for one of his brother's hands but it was jerked violently away. A rejection.

"He was so precious to you that you had no qualms about fucking other men behind his back and ordering lap dances at nightclubs shortly after his death. You certainly have a unique way of showing someone how much you care," Ludwig choked out bitterly.

That was a low blow, but Gilbert steeled himself and refused to avert his gaze, not wanting to give Ludwig the satisfaction of seeing him cowed. He told himself it was fine. Let Ludwig rant, let him hate, he was only there because he didn't want to be alone, but shit, he could feel something welling up from within and he had to get rid of his brother. Right now.

"You have the notes. I hope the killer will be brought to justice. That's all I can offer. Good night, inspector," Gilbert said as he shoved Ludwig towards the door a little too urgently, a little too forcefully, all too hatefully aware of the subdued quality of his voice.

"Gilbert, are you--"

Slam. Click.

"Gilbert! Open the door!" Ludwig's muffled voice could be heard from the other side. "What do you take me for?! Someone you can use as you please and discard when I've served my purpose?! Gilbert!"

Gilbert slumped against the door and brought his knees up, curling into himself as the barrier between them rattled with Ludwig's relentless banging until old Herr Müller next door yelled for him to shut up. Gilbert remained like that the entire night, and Ludwig did the same on the opposite side of the door. He knew. He could sense it, and if he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the warmth of his brother's back against his. So near, yet so far.

 

Ludwig was gone by the time Gilbert opened the door the next day. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed, but thoughts of his brother were temporarily suspended when he noticed a familiar-looking note next to his feet, folded in half.

> _So you've roped in a copper. You think you're so smart but it's useless. He can't protect you. I'll still get you. You desecrated my Karl. You killed my Karl. He died because of you! You will pay!_

He would probably have to look Ludwig up again. Gilbert wasn't naive enough to think their second encounter would be sunshine and rainbows, but he was holding out hope that it would pan out to be more of ... overcast skies than an outright charged thunderstorm. His head was pounding from the lack of sleep and thoughts about how he should approach Ludwig this time when a shadow fell over him from the doorway. Gilbert looked up and his eyes widened, not expecting this particular visitor now, so soon, after what happened last night, but his brother had always been dogged when he wanted something.

"Breakfast," Ludwig said simply, inviting himself inside without another word. He set his briefcase and a brown paper bag of what looked like sandwiches down on the dinner table, then trotted off to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Gilbert closed the door and followed his brother over to the small kitchen, huffing in amusement at his rummaging brother. He nudged Ludwig aside and silently got to work boiling the water in an old tin kettle for their morning brew. It was so easy to pretend nothing was wrong like this, and Gilbert couldn’t help but allow himself this bit of domestic bliss -- the physical closeness to Ludwig, his scent, the feeling of the other's eyes on him as they went about mundane tasks, and the camaraderie, however superficial, however tentative.

Nevertheless, all good things had to come to an end. As they settled down for their morning meal, Ludwig said casually, as though he was talking about the weather, "I hope you don't think the conversation last night is over."

Gilbert resisted the urge to sigh, his appetite flung out the window. "First things first. I just received this," he said, sliding the latest note across the table. Ludwig's brow knotted into a deep frown as he read its contents.

"When did you get this?"

"Saw it just before you showed up."

"Between 7.30 and 9.30 then. I have reported the latest developments of this case to my superiors, and they have agreed to my request to transfer you to a safe location until this is over."

Gilbert arched an eyebrow. "Really? They agreed to personal protection of someone like me? Have you done anything?"

"Nothing you need concern yourself with."

"Blackmail?"

"You will pack after breakfast and come with me."

"I'm not going anywhere. I told you, having him come to me is much more efficient than you going on a wild goose chase. Why do you want to drag it out when it can be resolved quickly?"

"I can't risk you dying before I get my answers."

Asshole.

"I'm not going to die."

"You can't guarantee that."

"Neither is hiding away like a wimp going to ensure I live! He could track me down anyway."

"The place you're going to is under constant surveillance. You would at least have a much higher chance of survival!"

Gilbert sat back and mulishly folded his arms across his chest. "How did you grow up to be this overbearing? I'm not afraid of death!"

There was a pregnant pause as the brothers stared each other down. Then Ludwig released a short, derisive bark of laughter. "You're not afraid of death," he repeated. "Good for you. How brave."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at his brother.

"Have you ever spared a thought for me?" Ludwig stood up so abruptly his chair scraped noisily against the floorboards and threatened to tip over. "Of course you haven't, or you wouldn't have disappeared without a trace all these years. I was the silly, infatuated little brother back then and I'm just a convenience to you now. You want to avenge your lover? Do as you wish."

Gilbert's heart gave a lurch and he grabbed a hold of Ludwig's sleeve as his brother brushed past him. "Where are you going?"

"There are arrangements I have to make if you're going to be staying."

"... Thank you. It'll be fine. I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

"I'm not sure I can anymore."

The door closed softly with a click, and he was alone once again.

Gilbert was wavering. He had always thought it would be best if his brother hated or grew disillusioned with him so he could cut him off completely, lay the past to rest and build a proper life for himself -- as proper as current circumstances allowed, but he could see Ludwig hadn't let go of anything, and Gilbert wasn't so sure he was doing the right thing anymore. Perhaps they did need to talk. He lit an Overstolz and stood by the window, staring at the street below, and at Ludwig's retreating figure.

 

Day turned into night and Ludwig had not returned. Gilbert was beginning to worry, but he told himself he was overthinking things. Ludwig could be tied up at work -- the hours of a detective were unpredictable and irregular, he probably had other cases to work on and besides, he never explicitly said he was returning, Gilbert had just assumed. The last thought sunk his spirits. He hated how had become a conflicting ball of confusion ever since their reunion, warring between heart and reason. He wanted Ludwig to hate him, he wanted Ludwig to love him. He wanted him to stay away forever, he wanted him always by his side.

He needed a smoke. Gilbert tapped out the last cigarette from his pack -- he was going to have to replenish his stock tomorrow -- and his gaze fell on a _Krimi_ he had been reading. That had been a good one. Intriguing plot, vivid descriptions, complex characters ... he should continue with it. Who needed Ludwig? Gilbert picked it up off his teetering book pile and made himself comfortable on the sofa, cigarette in one hand, book in the other.

Unfortunately, it wasn't working. Gilbert's legs were restless, and he constantly lost track of what he was reading, looking up at the empty room after every other sentence. He put the book down in resignation and puffed agitatedly on his cigarette instead.

After what felt like an eternity on tenterhooks, there was a series of rapid knocking at the door. Gilbert's heart leapt as he bounded over to answer it, swinging it open with such force it barely missed his nose as it crashed against the wall. It was a surprised Ludwig. Thank God he was back, but he was sporting a split lip, dishevelled hair, and his hat was missing. Gilbert drew him inside quickly.

"You shouldn't be answering the door like that. Not during this time at least," Ludwig frowned.

Gilbert ignored him. "What the hell happened to you?!"

"... Caught in a brawl between the communists and the Nazis," Ludwig said as he shrugged out of his coat and threw it on the sofa.

"Where?"

"Neukölln. They've got some guts marching in a communist stronghold like that."

Gilbert dabbed at Ludwig's blood-crusted lip with a damp washcloth. "I hear they've got a new guy to clean up their dingy basement. Goebbels or something. Rabid midget," he frowned.

"Yes. Joseph Goebbels. He's bad news. We're keeping an eye on him," Ludwig said as he wrapped his fingers around his brother's wrist, halting his movements.

Oh, when had they gotten this close? Gilbert could feel Ludwig's breath on his cheek. And his touch. When was the last time Ludwig had touched him? Heat flared in his belly at the sensory overload, one feeling merging into another, wrapping seductively, provocatively around him. It would be so easy, too easy to tilt his face upwards ... get a grip, Gilbert.

"The cut isn't deep. You'll live," he said instead without meeting Ludwig's eyes, but his brother's hand was still on him, and he was moving closer and closer. Gilbert swallowed, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest.

"I'll be staying during this period. I can't be here all the time, and the police normally wouldn't do this, but on account of the fact that the serial killer we're trying to catch is very likely the man who's after you, there will be plainclothes assigned to shadow you round the clock," Ludwig said quietly in his ear.

"Heh, if you've got coppers watching, is it necessary for you to be here?" Gilbert whispered back, enjoying the thrill of having his brother only a hair's breadth away, trying to be content with what little he could have. He knew Ludwig was only doing this to prevent any potential eavesdropping, but maybe it was also because ...

"No."

He could've sworn Ludwig's lips had just brushed against the shell of his ear, but his brother had released him and taken a step back as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

 

There was one bed, and one small sofa, brown and ratty, propped against the wall in the living area. Gilbert took one look at it and resolutely pushed his protesting brother into the bedroom.

"You'll take the bed."

"The sofa is fine," Ludwig said stubbornly, snatching the threadbare spare blanket over, much to Gilbert's annoyance. He struck out like an attacking cobra in a bid to reclaim it but Ludwig was faster, taking a step back and deftly twisting out of his reach.

"You can't have slept well last night. You should get some proper rest," Gilbert frowned.

"I'm a cop and I was a soldier. I don't need pampering," Ludwig replied, back straight, jaw set, voice hard and unyielding as iron. Pivoting on his heel, he marched out of the bedroom, an exasperated Gilbert trailing after him, mentally wrangling his obstinate brother's neck.

"You're human, not a machine. Humans need rest. Heck, even machines need rest!"

Ludwig stopped so abruptly Gilbert almost crashed into him. "I said no!"

Gilbert blinked in surprise at Ludwig's vehemence. Then it clicked. Of course. That was the bed he and Karl shared. How could he have been this insensitive? Gilbert wanted to smack himself now.

"The sheets are clean," he said quietly.

"The sofa is fine," Ludwig repeated, and Gilbert could only stare at his brother's back, helpless.

"... At least take the bed's covers. Those are thicker."

"Keep it. You're worse with the cold than I am."

The night was still save for the yowling of fighting stray cats and the lascivious giggling of couples as they stumbled through the streets. Gilbert knew he would get no sleep, not with Ludwig in such close proximity. He slipped out of bed and made his way over to the sofa, the creaking of the old floorboards under his weight amplified by the silence in the room. By the moonlight that filtered through the windows, Gilbert watched his brother. Ludwig's tall stature looked uncomfortable cramped into the small sofa, but what was a greater cause for concern was the fact that he was obviously ensnared in a nightmare. Those handsome features were twisted in agony, he was murmuring, tossing, turning, and his blanket had been kicked away.

Alarmed, Gilbert crouched on the floor beside his brother.

"Shh, shh Lutz, it's okay. It's just a dream."

"Gilbert ..."

"I'm here. I'm here, Lutz," Gilbert cooed, brushing sweat-dampened hair from the other man's face but Ludwig continued to thrash, reaching out, clawing, grasping at air and a million phantoms.

"Gilbert, no ... NOOO!"

Gilbert flinched at the gut-rending cry, his heart aching, pounding in his chest. Was Ludwig dreaming about him? What on earth could it be to cause him such distress? What had he gone through in these years? Gilbert quickly wrapped the blanket around them both and pressed his forehead against Ludwig's temple as he enfolded him in a loose hug, hoping his brother would be able to sense his presence and draw comfort from it.

"It's okay, shh. I'm here. You're safe. It's okay. It's just a dream. It's not real."

It took a few moments to register in Ludwig's nightmare-infested mind, but it worked. Ludwig struggled for a while but eventually turned towards him, chest heaving, gasping lightly. He reached out desperately and grabbed a hold of Gilbert's pyjama top, grabbed him so tightly his knuckles turned white, inhaling the scent of his brother and slowly, his breathing calmed.

"Gilb't ..."

"I'm here."

He stayed with Ludwig all night, nuzzling and pressing light, feathery kisses on his face the way he did when they were little. His legs were numb and cramping, his neck was stiff and his back was sore, but it was the sweetest torture as he waited for dawn.

 

Gilbert was dozing when Ludwig awoke the next morning, vaguely aware of the sounds of the neighbourhood as it rose for the day. He felt more than saw Ludwig's tired gaze, and slowly opened his eyes.

"Morning," he said hoarsely, letting his gaze roam across his brother's ragged appearance, as though looking for any clinging remnants of night demons.

Ludwig frowned at the hunched, miserable figure of his brother beside him. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"You were having a nightmare ..."

Ludwig stiffened.

"What did you dream?"

Gilbert winced at the crick in his neck as Ludwig sprang upright and raked his fingers roughly through his hair. "You have your secrets, I'll keep mine," he said brusquely, refusing to look at probing red eyes.

"Was it about me? Have you been having nightmares all this time?" Gilbert gingerly pushed himself off the floor and flopped heavily on the sofa beside beside his brother as his legs gave way to the prickling sensation of pins and needles running the length of his calves.

"Drop it, Gilbert."

"I'm just concerned about you!"

"You refuse to talk to me, you don't get to demand answers."

So infuriatingly stubborn!

"... Alright. Go wash up then," Gilbert conceded reluctantly. He shifted over to the kitchen to give Ludwig space, hoping the familiar fragrance of brewed coffee, the comforts of home, would serve to dissolve some of the tension. He handed one cup to Ludwig, who had just emerged from the bathroom, freshly shaven, hair neatly slicked, polished and put together once more.

"If you ever wanna talk, I'm here."

Ludwig snorted dismissively but drained his coffee. Black, one cube of sugar, the way he'd always liked it, even as a teenager. "I have to get back to the station. Try not to go anywhere unless absolutely necessary."

 

His morning had been unproductive. In fact, these few days had been unproductive. With the upheaval in his life, Gilbert had been unable to sit down and gather his thoughts to write. They'd always take a turn towards Sauer and Karl, but it was mostly Ludwig, and the words would not come. He blew a smoke ring into the empty room. These cigarettes were dwindling at an alarming rate though.

When Gilbert returned from lunch at the eatery across the street -- he considered food a necessity and he'd run out of potatoes, there was, again, a familiar-looking note on the floor. He picked it up, bored, increasingly impatient, and wishing Sauer would just show up already, until he read what was written.

> _You're so careful with the cop. So you love him! Ha! Who knew you were capable of it! But guess what? You toyed with my Karl. You stole him from me, now it's my turn._

What was that supposed to mean? Gilbert swore under his breath and shoved the note into his overcoat pocket. Ludwig was in danger now and it was all his fault. Again. He had to warn him. Now. Gilbert raced out the door, heart pounding, truly afraid for the first time since this entire mess began. Was this how Ludwig had been feeling all this while? Ludwig. His Ludwig. No harm must come to him. He would personally kill anyone who dared lay a finger on him!

And fuck! Why was the U-Bahn crawling today?! Move! A life was at stake! Gilbert stared tensely at his anxious reflection in the carriage windows as the train traversed dark tunnels, wasting precious time he didn't have as it stopped at each and every single station. He glared impatiently at innocent passengers boarding and alighting the train at a snail's pace, and the second the train arrived at Alexanderplatz, Gilbert wasted no time forcing his way through the doors before they were fully open, making a mad dash up the stairs of the station towards the police headquarters.

Breathless from his sprint, Gilbert looked around the large hall at the countless personnel darting about with mountains of files, boxes, and from what must've been the latest pornography raid, reels of film. He approached the nearest officer who looked idle enough to entertain him.

"Hello, would you know where can I find Kommissar Beilschmidt? Ludwig Beilschmidt. He should be with the homicide division," Gilbert asked, panting, breathless, slumped over himself with his hands on his knees.

The officer gave Gilbert a once-over and looked at him oddly. "Beilschmidt? You just missed him. He left not five minutes ago."

Gilbert cursed under his breath as he straightened himself. "Do you know where I can find him? It's important," he pressed, hoping the urgency in his voice would work on the other man.

"You could always leave a message at his division."

"No, I have to see him. Now. Please. It's ... very important."

Gilbert supposed he must've looked desperate enough, as the officer relented after a moment's hesitation over the wisdom of divulging the whereabouts of a colleague to a stranger. "Eh, he mentioned something about the Eldorado. You could try your luck there."

The Eldorado again? He must be working on the case. Gilbert forgot to thank the officer as he sprinted off, ignoring his protesting lungs and legs.

The infamous supermarket of eroticism was asleep during the day. Gilbert passed under the huge _Hier ist's Richtig_ sign that led into the vast, opulent hall, empty save for staff buzzing about as they prepared for its night opening. It was a completely different world from the glitz and glamour he was used to, where women dressed as men and men danced with each other, where you could fulfil your basest fantasies, drown in drugs and pleasure, escape the real world.

In the light of day, Gilbert was struck by how its magic and enchantment was nothing but that. Mere illusion. Smoke and mirrors. None of it was real, but he had needed a distraction from Ludwig.

Ludwig.

Ludwig was real. Where was he?

Gilbert scanned the empty rows of tables, the stage, the balconies, the bar, the booths ...

"Herr Schmidt! What are you doing here this early?"

"Magda! Has there been a detective here? Tall, blond, muscular, blue-eyed, handsome, perpetual frown ..."

"Oh, him! Yes, he's downstairs. Speaking with the Widow."

 _Thank God._ "Thank you! You're my favourite person right now!" Gilbert called out after the amused girl as he raced down the familiar path to the basement and its labyrinth of private rooms, enough of a regular to the club's bowels that he raised nary an eyebrow, and there! Ludwig was alive and well, speaking with the voluptuous madam Widow at her counter. She was dressed in her signature black with neatly coiffed hair, twirling her long, thin cigarette holder between her fingers more for dramatic effect than anything else. Gilbert's stomach finally settled as he made his way over on legs that had become wobbly in the aftermath of the adrenaline rush.

The Widow and Ludwig both looked up as he approached, surprise written on their faces.

"Gilbert? What are you doing here this early?"

Great. Another smear on his reputation in front Ludwig but at this point, Gilbert was sure Ludwig already thought the worst of him and he was just too relieved his brother was fine to care about anything else.

"And I'm sorry about Karl. It must be difficult for you."

Gilbert stole a glance at Ludwig, who remained impressively impassive.

"Thank you. He is missed, but we will see to it that his murderer faces the consequences of his actions," Gilbert said almost on autopilot, the words sounding foreign to his ears.

"So, was there anything you needed? The boy from--"

"I ah, was looking for the inspector."

The Widow raised an eyebrow. "You know each other?"

"We're ... investigating Karl's murder together."

"I see," she said sympathetically. "Well, I was telling handsome here about that Ernst Sauer."

Handsome gave a brief nod. "Like you mentioned, he was an eccentric character. Never seen without his violin case, disinterested in the entertainment when he was here, preferring instead to scribble in his notebooks as he waited for Karl Klein, the only thing he came for. He appeared to be generally disdainful of the establishment," Ludwig supplied.

The Widow snorted. "Tch. I remember that brat's face. Wanted to punch it in a few times, but ah, he was smitten with Karl alright. Came around every night for about a month, then he just disappeared. Good riddance."

Ludwig looked at Gilbert. "Considering your relationship with Karl Klein and the regularity of your patronage of this nightclub, how is it you have you never heard of, or seen this man before?"

"It's not like Karl had to report every single one of his clients to me! Back then I was just one of his regulars and after we got together he quit."

"You are ... not concerned about the sexual partners your lover has had? Not even for health reasons? Ever heard of Syphilis? Gonorrhoea?" Ludwig's voice was oversaturated and positively dripping with disdain.

Well, if it isn't Mr Hoity-toity. "We were always careful," Gilbert shot back defensively at the look of scorn on Ludwig's face. "He went for those health check-ups."

"Of course."

Patronising little shit.

"So you have never seen them together?"

"No."

The Widow stepped in. "Gilbert here is one of the early birds, always gone by one o'clock. Sauer tended to come by later at two or three. It's not surprising they've never met."

"Do you know where Sauer works, or worked?"

"I don't think he has any form of stable employment. As far as I know he plays by gig, as and when restaurants, nightclubs or events need musicians."

"Any agency?"

The Widow shrugged.

Another dead end, then.

"Could you describe what he looks like, or do you have a picture?"

The Widow took a puff of her cigarette and thought. "He should be in his late twenties, was about Gilbert's height but thin--"

"Are you implying I'm fat, madam?"

"Shut up, Gilbert. Let her talk."

The Widow chortled. "Oh, but you have a sexy ass," she winked. "Anyway, he was thin, his suit hung off him and his cheeks were sunken. He had brown hair and grey eyes ..."

Ludwig frowned at the generic and unhelpful description that could apply to just about every other man on the street when the Widow made a small pleased sound to herself.

"Oh! I remember, he had lots scars on his wrists too. Like slashes. Cuts."

"Slashes."

"The victims all died from multiple stab and slash wounds," Gilbert recalled.

Ludwig nodded. "Indeed. There could be a correlation between the two, but let's not jump to conclusions. More importantly, this is a distinctive trait. It should make identification much easier. This Sauer was certainly a troubled individual."

"He'll come to us first, just sit and wait, why bother with all this?" Gilbert muttered under his breath. Ludwig ignored him, tucking his notepad back into his briefcase.

"Thank you, madam, I believe that will be all for now. Your cooperation has been invaluable," Ludwig said.

"No problem, handsome, and if you're ever in search of a good time--"

Gilbert had dragged his brother out of earshot.

As they emerged from the darkness into the piercing sunlight, Gilbert shaded his eyes with a hand and squinted at the world. Beside him, Ludwig was drawing his hat further down his face in a bid to block out the sun.

"You were looking for me?" Ludwig asked after a moment's silence.

Gilbert was reminded of what brought him to the Eldorado in the first place. "Yes," he said, turning to face his brother, earlier flippancy replaced by a look of utter seriousness and urgency. "You have to be careful. He's after you too."

Ludwig went dangerously still. "Has there been another note?"

"... Yes."

"Show me," he demanded.

_You're so careful with the cop. So you love him! Ha!_

"I ... lost it when I was rushing over here," Gilbert fibbed, praying Ludwig wouldn't see through his bald-faced lie, but some things his brother was better off not knowing. False hope was cruel.

"Gilbert, that's evidence! What did it say at least?"

"He hates me. He thinks I stole Karl from him, so now he wants to take you from me. He's ... under the impression I've replaced Karl with you."

Ludwig's brow furrowed. "That doesn't make sense."

"You can't expect logical motives from a madman, but it's a fact that he's after you too and it's all my fault. I'm sorry. If I had stayed away he wouldn't have targeted you. If anything happens to you, I--"

"Thank you for the warning. I shall be vigilant, and there's no need to apologise. Police officers' lives are constantly put on the line. It's part of the job. If it wasn't Sauer it'd be someone else."

"You're not going anywhere without me now."

For the first time since their reunion, Ludwig looked faintly amused. "Have you forgotten I'm a cop?"

"I'm still your big brother," Gilbert said stubbornly. "It's my duty to protect you."

"I have no brother."

Gilbert paled.

"He died ten years ago, when he left without a word."

Ludwig was staring at him with no small amount of vindictiveness, and he was trapped in that blue gaze, unable to look away, so he did the only thing he could in self-defence -- put on a grin. A mask.

"Yeah? I've decided you're my little bro anyway, so deal with it."

Anger flashed in Ludwig's eyes. "I don't _want_ to be your brother, and do you know what I hate about you? That you think you can come and go as you like, do as you please. That you're obnoxious enough to expect me to bend over backwards to accommodate you. YOU left me all those years ago, and now you appear from nowhere and want to play the dutiful big brother? Don't make me laugh! I've never had a say in anything! I'm just a marionette you and father bend to your wishes!"

Several passersby stared at them as they walked past.

"Ludwig ... it's not ..."

It's not what? Ludwig had told the truth.

So much of his actions had been motivated by what he thought was best, what their father thought was best, but none of them had ever stopped to ask Ludwig what he thought, convinced of the error of judgement he would certainly make, that he was too young to know any better, but Ludwig had always been intelligent, always had a mind of his own. More importantly, Gilbert could no longer stand to see his brother in pain, living with demons. Demons he suspected he conjured. Why was it the one he loved the most ended up being the one he hurt the worst?

"I had my reasons ... wait, where are you going?"

Ludwig ignored him, and Gilbert followed.

"Go back, Gilbert."

"I said I wasn't going to leave you alone."

He heard a frustrated exhale. "I'm going to the station. It's perfectly safe there."

"I'll see you there, and I'll come pick you up when you knock off."

"Will you stop that! Don't be ridiculous! I'm not a child!" Ludwig snapped, jabbing a finger into Gilbert's chest. "You're the one in danger here! I at least have a gun and I'm trained to handle criminals!"

"You--!" Gilbert ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, knowing his brother was probably right, but was it his fault he was unable to stop worrying about him? Gilbert took deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. "Okay. Listen. I know you're angry, I know you have questions. I'll answer them tonight, so please, be aware of your surroundings. Stay safe," he pleaded, hoping this would be incentive enough for Ludwig to take his words seriously.

Ludwig levelled him with a wary look full of distrust and disbelief that Gilbert would be the one to volunteer to talk, after all this time, but he nodded stiffly. "I hope you can keep your promise."

 

Was it just him or was time crawling today? First the U-Bahn and now the clock. Where was Ludwig? Could Sauer have gotten to him? He should've waited outside the station for his brother. How could he have been convinced to return alone? Where the fuck were the plainclothes that were supposed to be shadowing him? He needed answers!

Gilbert paced the length of his apartment, alternating between glancing at the door and peering out the window down at the street every few minutes. Rain clouds had rolled over Berlin and it was beginning to drizzle, which did nothing for his mood.

It was a quarter to eight.

This wasn't working. He was getting antsy. He had to go to look for Ludwig.

The station. He'd go to the station first. Gilbert pulled on his coat and hat, and left his sanctuary.

But Ludwig wasn't at the station.

They said he'd left an hour ago. Where could he be? He wasn't home either. Gilbert was beginning to panic as he roamed the streets in the rain like a headless chicken, completely clueless as to where he should even start looking, feeling so utterly helpless as he stared at the uncaring vibrant city swirling around him in a dizzying blur.

The patter of cold rain. Snatches of conversation. The glare of headlights. Tendrils of cheap perfume. The blaring of horns. Raucous laughter. Grubby little pawing hands. Wisps of tobacco. The clacking of patent heels. It was a never-ending cacophony Gilbert irritably wished he could silence so he could _think_. Nobody spared him a second glance. He was invisible. Insignificant. Just another stranger in a sea of unknown faces.

No, he should go home again. If Sauer had Ludwig, perhaps there'd be another note for him. Goodness knows the sick man derived joy out of tormenting him. Gilbert turned on his heels abruptly, shoving aside the person who had been behind him and sprinted back in the direction of his apartment to the sound of furious cursing, a thousand hypothetical scenarios racing through his mind, none of them good.

As he ran up the cobblestone street that led to his tenement building, slipping every now and then on the wet, uneven stones, he caught sight of a familiar figure under an umbrella yelling through the rain for him in an unmistakable voice.

"Gilbert!"

"Ludwig!"

Gilbert was so relieved he could cry as he stumbled forwards, and Ludwig met his brother halfway, enveloping him in a strong, one-armed hug. Safe and warm. Like home. It was only then that Gilbert realised, bedraggled, soaking wet and trembling, how cold he was.

"Where the hell have you BEEN?!" Gilbert yelled as he grabbed Ludwig by his coat lapels, furious now that the fear had been assuaged. "They said you left the station an hour ago but you weren't home and I didn't know where you'd gone or if Sauer had gotten to you--"

"What were YOU thinking?! I told you I can take care of myself, why did you run out in the rain like that?!" Ludwig returned in equal measure, then, in a quieter voice, hissed fiercely, "Thank God I have people tailing you!"

"They must've known I was looking for you ... could've said something," Gilbert complained through chattering teeth.

"They wouldn't have known my whereabouts either. Besides, they were assigned to you and they're meant to remain hidden. Nobody's supposed to know they're there so Sauer will think I'm the only one protecting you." Ludwig let go of his brother to grab a hold of his icy hands, frowning deeply. "You're freezing! Put this on and come inside now!" he said, shrugging out of his coat and draping it over Gilbert, who gratefully wrapped it around himself, greedily taking in his brother's scent and lingering warmth.

 

Gilbert sat perched on the armrest of his old sofa, dressed in a set of blue pyjamas and nursing a cup of hot tea in his hands. Ludwig's coat was still wrapped around him, nice and snug, and he made the decision then and there that his brother was going to have to get himself some new outerwear because there was no way he was returning this one now.

"So? Where HAVE you been?" Gilbert peered up at Ludwig, who was busy towelling his hair into a mess of silver spikes.

"I went to get some bratwurst for dinner."

"What?!"

"... You used to like them."

"... I still do."

"I figured. You ... finish your tea while I prepare dinner. I'm famished."

"Do you even know where everything is?"

"... No."

Gilbert smirked. "The chopping board, pots and pans are hanging in plain sight, the utensils and cutlery are in the top drawer, the dinnerware are in the second drawer, the potatoes are in the bottom drawer and the condiments are in the top right cupboard."

"Right." Ludwig rolled up his sleeves and proceeded to take command of the tiny kitchen. Truly, there was nothing his perfect little brother could not do, Gilbert thought with no small amount of pride. And that was why, all the more, he could not and would not drag Ludwig down to hell with him. Gilbert rallied himself mentally and approached his brother from behind.

"I can help."

"There isn't enough space in here for two."

In another time, another place, he would've replied with a cheeky _"that's the whole point!"_ but ... they were no longer living in those days, Gilbert thought with a pang.

He ended up setting the table for two in a small corner, the only space available. That was how he and Karl used to make do as well. Karl. Gilbert felt a flash of guilt at having pushed him to the back of his mind with the appearance of Ludwig, but his brother was special to him and he was in danger and ... that was only normal, right? Besides, he _was_ working on justice for Karl. But first, food. Gilbert was beginning to salivate at the smell of fried bratwurst.

"Looks great," he grinned as Ludwig placed a bowl of potato salad between them, happily noting his brother had even managed the extra bacon and cut back on the onions. Just the way he liked it. It was a feast after the ordeal of the day.

"Tuck in, and eat more," Ludwig said, shoving an extra wurst over to Gilbert, whose stomach voiced its approval with a loud growl.

"What about you?" he nevertheless had the presence of mind and manners to ask.

"I haven't been running around in the cold rain like an idiot."

"Yeah well, but you did all the cooking. We'll share," Gilbert said, cutting it in half, touched despite the insult. All through dinner, he waited for Ludwig to broach the topic of their troubled past, start asking questions, but he said nothing. The meal was silent save for the clinking of cutlery against ceramic and "Do you want more salad?". Was Ludwig waiting for him to start talking? Gilbert wasn't sure how to begin out of the blue like that, reluctant to disrupt the fragile peace between them.

Even cleaning up had been a near-slient affair. He had shooed his brother to the side while he did the washing up, waiting, almost eagerly, but still, nothing.

Ludwig took the sofa again that night, and Gilbert retreated to his bedroom after one last look at his brother's hunched figure, disappointed. He tossed and turned restlessly, alternating between glaring at the door and staring petulantly out the window, when his ears registered sounds of movement from the living area. More specifically, the sound of footsteps. Ludwig's footsteps. Gilbert hurriedly flipped back and his pulse sped up in anticipation as his brother materialised in the dark doorway with adorably mussed hair he itched to bury his fingers in, the way he had countless times before.

"Room for another?"

Ludwig had come to stand by the bed, looking uncertain, as though he still had misgivings about it, but Gilbert quickly scooted over before he could change his mind and patted the empty space next to him, biting back the urge to smile as he fluffed a pillow for Ludwig and drew the covers over them like a cocoon that kept the hostile world at bay.

"Just like when we were kids," Gilbert grinned, deliberately steering Ludwig's thoughts away from another period of time in their lives, when they'd similarly shared a bed, but got up to very different things in it.

Ludwig snorted softly. If he knew what Gilbert was doing, he let him get away with it. A small smile quirked his lips. "Only because you spooked yourself with all the stories about ghouls and monsters you used to tell me."

"It was just an excuse to bunk in with my adorable baby brother!"

"Because?"

"... Hey, your bedroom wasn't the one facing that creepy old tree!"

"I'll admit that tree gave off unholy vibes."

"See?! It's a thousand times worse at night, and I'll tell you, smartass, trying to 'cuten' it up by sticking your stuffed bear in those gnarled branches was the worst idea ever."

Ludwig chuckled and Gilbert kicked him under the covers. "Imagine a pair of glassy eyes staring at you through the window ON TOP OF the sinister shadows that fucking tree casts at night. I'm convinced that thing is possessed by the Devil himself now."

"And hopefully haunting father."

"They'd probably get along like a house on fire."

They snickered for a while and then the room fell silent. It was the easiest thing in the world to fall back into old habits with his brother. In the dark, they faced each other wordlessly. Ludwig raised a hand, tracing reverent, feather-light touches along the outline of Gilbert's face, across his jaw, playing with the slight stubble there, and down his neck. Gilbert's skin tingled where his brother's touch had been. Ludwig's palm came to a rest over his chest. It warmed his heart.

"Well, I'm here now. I'll protect you from the monsters. So, talk," Ludwig whispered.

Gilbert gazed into his brother's eyes and drew a small, nervous breath, covering his Ludwig's hand with his own slightly clammy one. So it begins. "I ... I didn't have a choice. The old man forbade me from seeing you, and ... he was right. He'd found out about us, I don't know how, and that last night I was summoned to his study. He ..."

Ludwig flipped his palm over and threaded their fingers together, squeezing his hand reassuringly. It imbued Gilbert with strength. In the dark, quiet intimacy, under the soft covers with Ludwig beside him, comforting and familiar, a solid, steadfast presence, he found it easier to talk.

"The old man was right, you know. It's my fault you turned out like this. If I hadn't clung to you that much, hadn't monopolised you like that, hadn't been that 'unnaturally affectionate', you wouldn't have grown up revolving around me and being so reliant on me and thinking the world of me and this wouldn't have happened to you."

Ludwig frowned. "What do you mean 'happened to me'?"

"You wouldn't feel this way about me."

"I fell for the one person in the world who loved me the most!"

Gilbert swallowed visibly and his voice trembled. "See, if I hadn't, you wouldn't have developed these feelings--"

"Are you actually blaming yourself for loving me too much?!" Ludwig asked in incredulity, brushing aside the hair that had fallen across Gilbert's eyes with his free hand and Gilbert leaned involuntarily into the touch.

"Anything in excess is a poison, Lutz. It's wrong. It's not natural. You don't fall in love with your brothers. It's ... perverse. Immoral. Degenerate. Disgusting."

Ludwig's jaw clenched. "Those were father's words." A statement, not a question.

Gilbert hesitated, then nodded. He tried not to let the words affect him, but he could feel the self-loathing creep up on him all over again.

"So the old man disowned me. Flogged me and kicked me out in the middle of the night. Heh, he never liked me anyway, bet he was just waiting for an excuse to get rid of me. Anyway, that's why I left."

Ludwig was aghast. "But I came to you first!"

"I should have discouraged you."

"You ... you did, but I persisted."

"And I joined in on the madness. I was weak."

"Don't say that! We were happy!"

Happy. Had he been happy? Yes, when it was just the two of them but ... Gilbert didn't know. It couldn't be happy if he took everything else into account. "We were always sneaking around like thieves, living in constant fear of getting caught ..."

"It wouldn't have been forever! I was thinking of a solution!"

"The problem was you having to think of a solution at all, Lutz."

"Are you proposing we run from everything that doesn't go our way, then?"

Gilbert exhaled in what sounded like a helpless laugh. "I'd hardly call something sordid like incest a situation that's 'not going our way'."

"It's not sordid! And if you want something badly enough, you'll think of ways to make it work!"

"Then maybe I didn't want it badly enough."

"Liar," Ludwig hissed.

Gilbert pretended he hadn't heard him.

"Anyway, after the old man kicked me out, it was time for my conscription, so I went off to war. I was eager for it, eager to numb myself, and if I died out there, all the better." Gilbert tried to keep his voice level but with the recollection of memories, the pain returned. The feeling of desolation at being driven out of his home with only the clothes on his back. The devastation at being forcibly separated from the only person in the world who loved him. He watched Ludwig, seeing the face of that youth from ten years ago blending into that of the man beside him now. "You were right, your brother died ten years ago," he said, hating the heartbreak he saw in his brother's eyes.

"No," Ludwig whispered, gathering Gilbert in his arms. "I said that in a fit of pique. You know I couldn't possibly mean it." Ludwig drew closer ... and just a little bit more, breathing against Gilbert's lips in a way that was anything but familial. "You're the best brother anyone could hope for. I only ... hate that this aspect of our relationship is an obstruction to the development of ... something more."

 _This is dangerous. Pull back! Pull back before you make another mistake!_ But Gilbert, intoxicated with Ludwig's scent and starved for affection from the one he wanted it from the most, possessed neither the strength nor the will to do so. He licked his lips and watched as Ludwig's eyes followed the movement of his tongue hungrily, and that alarmed him enough to widen the space between them. Not by much, only to the point where Ludwig wouldn't be able to simply lean in and complete the kiss.

"... S-so. It turned out that death didn't want me either, and after the war, going back was no longer an option, so I came to Berlin." Gilbert brushed his knuckles along Ludwig's cheek unable to resist the need to touch. "I missed you, but ... I thought it would be better if you thought I was dead, or if you hated me for leaving you, so you could lay these feelings to rest and move on. Lead a normal life. You have so much ahead of you."

"No, you never get over the loss of someone who meant ... the world to you, and you don't just turn around and hate them like that. There is only anger. And ... hurt and pain that wishes for resolution." Ludwig hugged him close again, sighing and nuzzling into Gilbert's hair, similarly drawing strength from the presence of his brother. "My nightmares. They started after you left. I didn't know whether you were dead or alive, father refused to speak about you, I had no news and I began to fear the worst. Then it was time for my conscription and I experienced for myself the stench, the filth, the death in the trenches. And I was terrified that had been your fate. I would see your face, cold, lifeless, caked in mud, piled carelessly on top of other corpses like a discarded rag doll and all around me there would be the smell of blood, burning and rotting flesh ..." Ludwig's voice broke off on a shaky note and he drew a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. "They'd stopped a few years ago, but returned last night. It ... was probably because I was fearing for your life again," Ludwig tightened his hold on Gilbert. It hurt his ribs, but Gilbert let him. Ludwig’s pain was his pain too.

"I'm sorry, Lutz. I ... don't know what to do or say other than I'm sorry."

"No, there _is_ something you can do."

Gilbert knew what he wanted, and oh it was so tempting, but he couldn't. His father's biting words haunted him still. Ludwig had picked up the pieces before they ran into each other again. He had a life, a career, he should find a good girl, start a family, be a respectable member of society, not ruin everything by entering into a homosexual incestuous relationship with his brother. He had to stand his ground. Stamp out the wishful thinking.

"I didn't tell you all of this to get back together," Gilbert in a voice firmer than he felt. "I'm telling you this so you can have closure and move on. Let go of your demons. I'm still your brother. We're related by blood. This fact will never change."

"And I love you. This fact will never change. I will never move on. There is no-one else for me, Gilbert. I'm old enough, I've been through enough to know that for certain by now. And if this is a poison, then it is the sweetest poison, and if ... if you're bothered about being siblings, hasn't father disowned you? I have no brother now," Ludwig pleaded, his tone dangerously close to begging. 

"I can't fool myself like that, Lutz."

Ludwig was at his wit's end, desperate and looking like a vulnerable boy all over again. Gilbert's heart ached. "I ... I'm estranged from him too! I resented how he denied your existence and refused to speak about you. He had everything ... he even had your journals burnt!"

His journals. Gilbert made himself smile, a mechanical movement of muscle. "They're just diaries. No big deal."

"It's not 'no big deal'! They were a record of ... you! I ... I couldn't live with it anymore. That's why I requested a transfer to Berlin. To start over. And fate brought us together again. The circumstances aren't ideal but I believe this means something. We're destined for each other and this is the place we get to put the past behind us. This is a big city. We can be anonymous here, just two faces in an endless sea of people. Nobody knows who we are and homosexuals are tolerated. It's the best arrangement. If you don't like it, we could always go elsewhere. Another country. Another continent, even. Anywhere is fine as long we're together."

Gilbert drew a shuddering breath. "Don't do this," he whispered. He wasn't sure he had the strength to resist much longer. Ludwig's words were seductive. Too seductive, eroding his defences like patient, relentless water grinding down jagged stones into smooth pebbles.

Ludwig brushed his thumb across Gilbert's lips, his eyes bright with hope. "What do you say?"

"I ... I can't ..."

"Just answer this: do you feel the same way about me?"

Gilbert's silence only served to fuel Ludwig's anxiousness.

"Is it because of this Karl? Does being with your brother disgust you now? Or am I not a good enough lay now that you've fucked half the prostitutes in this city?!" Ludwig lashed out, unrelenting, words like flying shards of shrapnel that embedded themselves in Gilbert's heart. He could only listen mutely, unable to comfort his brother, yet unwilling to push him away.

"I ..."

Ludwig withdrew his embrace and sat up. Gilbert did the same, a subconscious move in pursuit of the warmth that had just been denied him. He stared at his brother's profile, the movement of his Adam's apple as he swallowed thickly.

"I get it." Ludwig's voice was empty, echoing with disappointment and the hurt of rejection all over again. "I think it's better if I took the sofa after all, but thank you for answering my questions."

Gilbert could only watch in numbed silence as his brother, the only good thing in his life, slipped away from him again. He didn't know what he expected from their talk, but it wasn't this. Perhaps he'd been too selfishly optimistic to think Ludwig would understand and accept things, and that they could go back to being brothers, or at the very least be on talking terms. How naive. He should've known Ludwig would've refused to accept any answer other than the one he wanted, the brat. Would things ever be okay between them? Gilbert swallowed thickly, his fists clenched so tightly they dug punishingly into the flesh of his palms.

 

Ludwig was gone by the time Gilbert awoke the next morning, having only drifted off into a fitful slumber near dawn. He poked at the leftover salad from last night and mentally replayed Ludwig's proposition, wanting so much to say yes but his father's words were an ever-present thorn in the back of his mind, and Gilbert hated that recognised the truth in them. It was immoral. Society would never recognise a relationship like theirs. Ludwig, his exceptional little brother, would be ruined.

 _But he's right. Nobody knows you're brothers here,_ a voice whispered in his head. _And so what if someone finds out? There are worse things going on in this city than loving your brother._

Shut up.

Gilbert wished he had Ludwig's resolve. That way he could choose one path or the other, and not be forever caught at the crossroads. Ludwig had looked so hurt, and it was his fault again. There was a wall between them now; he could feel it last night as Ludwig left his bed. Gilbert buried his face in his hands. He'd made things worse. He always made things worse. How would he face Ludwig tonight? Would he even come back?

He needed some fresh air. Sunbeams invaded the room and Gilbert watched dust motes float about the closed confines of the apartment. It was suffocating him with the ghost of Karl and the ever-present tension with Ludwig. He wanted so badly for this mess to be over and done with so they could all get on with their lives. And he'd probably have to leave Berlin now. Maybe he'd go to Hamburg next. Or Cologne.

Glancing at the floor every day in anticipation of new notes had become a new habit and as expected, there was one waiting for him.

> _What a touching reunion in the rain! I almost feel bad for breaking you up now, but do come to the rooftop if you want to see your beloved one last time._

"Bastard!" Gilbert crumpled the note in his fist. Did he have Ludwig?! Was this a ruse? No matter. Gilbert had been dying to meet this motherfucker and the cockroach was revealing himself at long last, but first, he needed to arm himself. Gilbert cast a quick look around his small apartment for a weapon he could carry, and soon spotted the paring knife gleaming at him from the kitchen counter. Not ideal, but it was sharp and better than nothing.

Gilbert wrapped his fingers tightly around the handle of the knife and made a mad scramble out the door, scaling the stairs of his tenement building two steps at a time. He was vaguely aware that he had forgotten to lock the door but screw it. There was nothing of value in that apartment anyway.

One flight.

Two flights.

Three flights.

Gilbert cursed under his breath.

Four flights.

_Come on, Gilbert._

Last one!

Gilbert burst onto the open rooftop, the sudden blast of merciless cold air raising goosebumps, reminding him he'd forgotten his coat too but fuck that as well. Gilbert's horrified attention was quickly riveted to a pair of figures directly in his line of vision.

There was a man, dirty and unwashed, wild-eyed and sunken-cheeked, holding Ludwig hostage at the edge of the building. A sharp blade was pressing lightly at his throat. Not hard enough to draw blood yet, but it would with just that little bit of applied pressure. Gilbert felt his heart miss several beats. 

"Sauer," Gilbert growled.

"Schmidt," the other man spat like it was a bad taste in his mouth. "I see you know who I am."

"Let him go. You want me, I'm here. He doesn't have anything to do with this."

Sauer laughed almost pleasantly. It sent a chill down Gilbert's spine. "Oh but he does. You don't know how much I've enjoyed seeing you running around in a wild panic because of him."

"What the _fuck_ do you want?!" Gilbert ground out in pure hatred, his anxious gaze fixed more on the blade cutting into Ludwig's throat than on Sauer, who was gleefully feeding on his emotional turbulence, gloating at Gilbert's obvious distress.

"What do I want? I want to see you writhe in agony as you watch your loved one die slowly, painfully, before you. I want to see you wish for death. And then I can either help you along, or you can end it yourself. I'm flexible like that."

Gilbert brandished his knife with a snarl. "I'm gonna carve your heart out first!"

"With that toy?" Sauer mocked.

"Stay back, Gilbert! I'll handle this!" Ludwig shouted, earning him a punch to his side. In the mild scuffle that ensued, the blade dug itself into Ludwig's throat, drawing a pearl of blood that slowly trickled down his neck, staining the white of his shirt collar. Gilbert looked on in horror, feeling as though he was the one being held at knifepoint, terrified for his brother but pissed off at the situation Ludwig had gotten himself into.

"How are you going to handle it?! You said you could take care of yourself! Look what happened!"

"I will take care of it! Just stay back! He's dangerous!"

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do? Write him poetry?"

"Now's not the time to be a smartass!"

Sauer looked mildly interested. "Is he any good?"

"As sentimental as a schoolgirl," Gilbert scowled over at his brother.

"Better than being a heartless asshole," Ludwig shot back, the rejection from the night before clearly still a thorn in his side.

Sauer chuckled. "Oh dear, as amusing as this is, could you maybe, save your lovers' squabble for the afterlife?"

They both glared daggers at him.

"You won't be able to get out of this in one piece either, Sauer. You're attempting to murder a cop here. They'll be out for your blood," Gilbert hissed venomously.

Sauer shrugged. "Not a problem. I'll finish him first, then you, and when that's done, I shall reunite with Karl and they can do whatever they want with my corpse."

Fuck. There was nothing worse than a man who longed for death. He had nothing to lose, but Karl. Appealing to the memory of Karl. Yes, that might work.

"Karl ..." Gilbert stamped out the sorrow that threatened to rise, refusing to show any sign weakness in front of Sauer. "Karl was a kind soul. The kindest man I know. He would never approve of what you're doing! He would hate you. How will you face him?"

"Karl ..." Sauer drifted off into his own world. "He was kind, yes. Kind, pure ... too beautiful for this world ..."

Yes, too beautiful for this world. There was a moment of silence, remembering, mourning the loss of someone dear.

"But he's been tainted by the filth of this city, by YOU! You blinded him! You turned him against me!" Sauer bellowed, and in his agitation, the blade against Ludwig's neck slid again. This time, it drew a red line across his neck. Ludwig grit his teeth and it took every ounce of self-control Gilbert possessed to force himself to stay put and not rush over, lest Sauer does indeed slit his bother's throat at his provocation.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I hadn't even known of your existence! How could I have turned him against you?!"

Sauer lifted the blade from Ludwig's throat for a moment to point it directly at Gilbert, bloodshot eyes full of hatred. So much hatred and jealousy. "Do you know how he died? He died because of you! I was going to come after you next, you know? You were the last in the line of the filthy men who'd touched him, but he found out about it and came to me. He offered to go away with me if I would let you live. I was ready to compromise ... but he tried to stab me in the back!" Sauer snarled, then wailed. "I didn't mean to kill him. I never meant to kill him, it was an accident, but I was so angry. He was still calling out your name as he lay dying. Do you know what he said?" Sauer laughed bitterly, viciously. "He said, 'Save me, Gilbert. Save me!' I slashed ... and slashed ... I had to cleanse him of you ..."

Gilbert froze. _He's lying. He must be lying. The bastard is lying._ But his stomach twisted, and he was certain he was going to be sick as unbidden images of Karl's last moments, terrified, bloody, painful, alone, his final words, desperate, heartbroken, hopeless, were conjured up in his mind's eye. He had failed Karl. Sweet Karl. He had failed everybody important in his life ...

"-bert. Gilbert. Gilbert! Snap out of it!"

There was a voice. Urgent but faraway. It sounded like Ludwig's. Ludwig. That was enough to jolt Gilbert out of his daze. It took a moment for him to gather his wits, and then a couple more to get his emotions under control. He had a situation on his hands. Ludwig was still being held hostage, damm it! _Get a grip, Gilbert._ He looked wildly over at his brother and noticed Ludwig's attention pointedly focused on something behind him, at the dark stairwell. Ludwig was trying to tell him something. What? Was someone there? He would've turned his head to look but he was not going to take his eyes off that fucking murderer who still had his brother at knifepoint. Wait. The plainclothes! Yes of course! Did they have backup now? Relief coursed through Gilbert. All he had to do was buy time and keep Sauer distracted. That he could do.

Gilbert straightened his back. "It's been a year and a half. Why are you only doing this now?"

"Oh, I was going to do it much, much sooner," Sauer drawled, "but who knew, I was suddenly offered the chance to play as a member of a string quartet in Vienna. I went, but I never forgot about Karl. I always kept an eye on how he was doing. I was so happy when he stopped selling himself ... but then he shacked up with the likes of _you_! I couldn't take it anymore! And so I returned ... to take care of all that 'unfinished business' ... and reclaim what was mine, but you'd stolen him! You! I _hate_ you."

"He only ever felt gratefulness towards me for offering him a way out of his old life."

"No, he loved you. He let you fuck him. He was willing to risk his life for you ... but you slept around behind his back! And now you've replaced him with this copper! This copper you're so anxious to protect! I have to seek justice for Ka--"

Sauer blinked as his knife clattered to the ground. It was followed by a drop of blood. Then another, and another.

Snipers! On the opposite building! Ludwig took the opportunity to break free of his captor's hold, twisting Sauer's uninjured arm behind him as he pinned him to the ground. Footsteps sounded from behind Gilbert and he watched as the plainclothes that had been hiding in the stairwell stormed onto the scene, holding a prone Sauer at gunpoint.

Gilbert ran up to his brother, relieved, so relieved to see the end in sight but Sauer was tenacious, burning with a vengeance, and he would not go down without a fight. Ludwig looked up as Gilbert rushed over and that lapse of concentration gave Sauer the chance to twist free. He grappled for the knife he'd dropped and Gilbert could only watch in horror as he grinned and plunged it into Ludwig's abdomen.

Gunshots rang in his ears at the same time and Sauer finally fell back, lifeless. It was truly over now. Gilbert couldn't move, couldn't breathe. It was over. His world stopped. Gilbert watched his brother double over and he screamed.

"LUDWIG!!!"

Gilbert scrambled over on all fours and cradled his brother in his arms, crying, trembling, babbling. "Lutz. Lutz! Can you hear me? Stay with me. They've gone to get an ambulance. Help will be here soon. Don't sleep. Don't sleep ... talk to me, baby brother. Hang in there," Gilbert begged.

"Gilbert ... don't cry. It's just a stab ..." Ludwig said, but every word he forced out clearly required energy he did not have to spare. His voice was thin, his face was pale and cold sweat was trickling down his brow. He raised a hand to Gilbert's face, wanting to wipe away the tears but ended up smearing blood across his brother's cheek instead, and Gilbert sobbed even harder.

"Oh God, I love you, Lutz. My Lutz. It's only ever been you. The men I find? They all reminded me of you in some way. Because I missed you so badly and I needed an outlet or I would go fucking nuts!" Gilbert hiccupped, hugging his brother tightly and burying his face in Ludwig's hair. "It's only ever been you. Nobody else has ever mattered. They were just flings. Please, please be okay. I won't run away anymore, the old man can bugger off," he whispered desperately against Ludwig's temple. "I love you. So ... so much."

Between life and death, all his cares scattered with the wind. His moments with Ludwig -- both past and present, the joy and the pain -- replayed in an endless stream before his eyes and in that instant, nothing, absolutely nothing was more important than his brother being alive and happy. With him. Together. Just as long as his brother lived, Gilbert would give him anything he wanted. "We'll ... we'll be anonymous here. Or go anywhere you want. Just you and me. Fuck the world. What do you say?" Gilbert tried to smile through his tears but he was certain it came out as an awful grimace.

"Say it again."

"Fuck the world."

"The other one."

"I love you."

"Again."

"I love you!"

Ludwig smiled like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world -- Gilbert, with snot running down his nose and blood on his cheek. It lingered even after the ambulance arrived and he was carried away on a stretcher, Gilbert hovering over him like a mother hen. They held hands all the way to the hospital, each quietly reassuring the other, trying to be each other's source of strength.

"The stab was worth it."

"Shut up."

 

The cuts on his neck were superficial but the stab wound was fairly deep. Sauer had stuck it to Ludwig with all of his remaining strength, but he was lucky. The blade had narrowly missed major arteries and organs, but a little deeper and it would've struck his abdominal aorta. Gilbert's blood ran cold despite all the deaths he'd already witnessed in his life as he listened to the doctor. So a month of bedrest it was, and the wound was to be monitored for inflammation and infection.

Gilbert fussed over Ludwig, checking his dressing for the umpteenth time, making sure he had enough water and wasn't in too much pain until Ludwig grabbed him by the hand and brought him to a halt. Still, Gilbert stared at him as though afraid he was going to drop dead at any second.

"Gilbert, relax. You heard the doctor," Ludwig said, looking pale but in much better spirits. Gilbert suspected much of it had to do with the painkillers currently sloshing around in Ludwig's system.

"You can't be too careful."

"If you don't start relaxing, you're going to be the one dropping dead from stress."

Gilbert clicked his tongue and plonked himself heavily on the chair beside Ludwig, exhausted and glad for the peace and quiet now that the doctors, nurses and various visitors from the police headquarters were gone.

"So. Who was it who said he could take care of himself? And who was it who ended up being taken hostage and actually getting fucking _stabbed_?" Gilbert demanded, levelling Ludwig with the full power of his displeased big brother stare.

"I had the situation fully under control."

"How was that 'under control'?!"

"I let him take me hostage."

Gilbert hummed a skeptical "Mmhmm."

Ludwig shot his brother an annoyed look at having his professionalism doubted. "I was on my way back to your place during lunch break to see how you were doing because God help me, I just can't seem to stay away from your asshole self, when I noticed I was being followed. By Sauer. I had intended on baiting him but he was one step faster. He came up to me just as I was leaving the restaurant and pressed his blade against my back, so I decided to go along with it and see what he had up his sleeve. My colleagues had already been alerted as we ascended your tenement building. I was in no real danger."

"No real danger?!" Gilbert magnanimously let the 'asshole' comment slide, and looked pointedly at the swathe of bandages wrapped around Ludwig's abdomen.

"We could've taken care of him without your involvement but you had to burst onto the scene and be such a distraction."

"So now it's my fault?! What was I supposed to do when I received a note like that? Sit around and pop a bottle of champagne?"

"What did it say?"

"I forgot."

Ludwig snorted and pulled Gilbert to sit by him on the bed. "In a way, I suppose I have to thank Sauer. He brought us together again."

Gilbert harrumphed.

"You're such a tough nut to crack. It took something as extreme as me almost dying for you to say yes."

"Don't push your luck, buddy. I might change my mind. I'm still a responsible big brother at heart and my reservations remain," Gilbert said, although its desired effect was diminished by the way he leaned over to check Ludwig's bandages again for any sign of wetness.

"What _are_ you worried about?" Ludwig asked, tipping Gilbert's face up to meet his, frowning at the troubled look in those red eyes.

"... It's just ... not right. We're _brothers_. I'm your elder brother. I should be responsible--"

"I couldn't care less about what the world thinks. I fail to see the problem apart from that. What we do in private isn't anyone's business but our own. Or ... does it ... disgust you?" Ludwig asked, apprehension seeping into his voice as he re-asked the question he never received an answer to.

There was a long moment of silence as their gazes locked. A frail hope blossomed amidst the chaos of uncertainty. "It should," Gilbert eventually sighed.

"But it doesn't," Ludwig said quietly. "Being with you is the most natural thing in the world. I will never find this connection we have with anyone else. You think I haven't tried all these years? We've been conditioned to think it's 'wrong', but just how wrong is it really?"

How wrong? Gilbert was increasingly realising he didn't know very much at all, and he couldn't deny it. These years they've spent apart from each other had been torture, physically and emotionally, for both of them. His writing and hedonistic lifestyle was capable only of temporarily suppressing the ever-present misery, and ... maybe a misery that came at them externally rather than arise between them internally means it never was their fault at all? That the world was the problem instead? But ... "It's not just that. Your reputation would be in shambles, you would be ostracised--"

"I said I don't care about any of those superficial things."

"I care. I don't want to be the cause of your ruin. Lutz ... you can have everything if you stayed on the straight path. Work your way up the police force, marry a good girl, start a family, live in a nice house in a nice neighbourhood, grow old, play with your grandkids ..."

"That sounds insufferably dull. I'd rather travel the world with you."

"You won't be saying this when you're constantly on your guard for fear of being found out--"

"I already am constantly on my guard--"

"Or being persecuted and spat at on the streets and always having to be on the move."

"Would you abandon me if that happened?"

"Of course not!"

"Then what makes you think I will?"

"I can't bear to see you lead that sort of life."

"I'll decide how I want to live my life, and it won't be in the shackles of society, pandering to their ideals. It will be with you." Ludwig said in quiet earnestness.

"Where there are people, there will be gossip. It's not something you can stick your head in the sand and ignore. Not if you still want to be a member of society and make your mark in it."

"Accomplishments are nice to have, but of what use are they if I don't have the one I love to share it with? And you're operating under the assumption that people know. They don't and they're not likely to. Even if they do, I've told you countless times, I don't care."

Gilbert clicked his tongue as he cupped Ludwig's cheek, giving him a fond but exasperated look, relenting because he'd promised, but years of guilt and self-disgust that had been beaten into him had long since taken root, and wasn't going to be undone overnight. "Stubborn little shit. What do I do with you?"

"Love me," Ludwig replied simply, pressing a kiss against his brother's palm and nuzzling into it. "I would be happy living in a little hut high up in the Alps if you're with me. Just us, a small farm and a couple of dogs. We can even set up a bird feeder again if you want."

"You remembered."

"Of course."

Gilbert smiled, basking in the luxury of each other's company until he remembered something. "Karl--"

"Just so you know, this is a highly inappropriate time to be bringing up your ex-lover."

Gilbert kissed him soundly, pulling back before Ludwig could take advantage of the opportunity to deepen it like the ravenous man that he was. "Tsk. Hold the green-eyed monster. We weren't like that. Not exactly anyway. Karl knew ... about us," he said, playing with Ludwig's hands and drawing circles on his brother's palms with his thumb. "He was the only one I felt comfortable enough to confide in. You have no idea what a big fucking relief it is to unburden your deepest secrets and ... he hadn't judged me." Gilbert looked up with a sad smile. "We weren't in love, but we were friends who comforted and supported each other in tough times. I would've liked for you guys to meet."

If Gilbert were to be completely honest, he would have to admit he hadn't been ignorant of Karl's feelings, that they had exceeded the purely platonic and physical, but he had chosen not to see, selfishly taking advantage of the affection that was offered him, and for that, he owed Karl, but he had been convinced he'd never see Ludwig again, and so even if he couldn't give Karl what he wanted, Gilbert was at the very least prepared to spend the rest of his life with him, but now ...

Ludwig wrapped his arms comfortingly, possessively around his brother, ignoring Gilbert's squawking protests about watching out for his wound. "I'm grateful he kept you company in my absence, but this job will be mine from now, and ... I think he would be happy for you, from a better place," Ludwig said, brushing their noses together.

"Maybe."

 

The sun shone over Berlin but on the far horizon, a storm was brewing, riding on the swift winds of changing fortunes. It echoed with the sound of marching armies, the roar of a dictator, and it would rain blood. Red. White. Black.


End file.
